


Bus Fare

by lindaljc



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen, No Warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 11:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19375672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindaljc/pseuds/lindaljc
Summary: Blair had bus fare.





	Bus Fare

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I've been looking back at some of my very early stories, written for the television show The Sentinel. I've decided to post a few of them here. If you're not a fan of the show I will still be writing and posting stories for Stargate Atlantis. 
> 
> Disclaimer: All characters, places, and objects from The Sentinel belong to Pet Fly Productions, UPN, Paramount and the SciFi Channel. No money is being made. No copyright infringement is intended. No similarity to any person either living or dead is intended or should be inferred. Any resemblance (of original characters) to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.   
> This story was written by lindaljc with the love of the show in mind.

Blair pulled his jacket tighter around his neck. It didn't help to keep the rain out as much as he'd hoped. He'd just left the deli after meeting Jim for lunch. It was Jim's attempt to get him out of the loft, but the rain pretty much dampened his spirits again very quickly. Well, at least he'd gotten out and gotten some fresh air. 

He had to admit that it did help for a while to take his mind off the fact that he was to start at the Police Academy soon. So far he'd spent most of his time cramming to test out of some of the classes. For being an observer all those years he had a lot of police experience, and not just the 'riding the desk' sort. He'd not only passed most of the tests, but passed with top grades. He was just waiting for the results of the last one. He knew he'd surprised a lot of the brass at the academy, and he knew Jim and Simon were proud of his achievements so far. 

He was a little worried about the physical training though. It was going to be tough. Jim had been dragging him out to run every single morning, and had even bought him some new running shoes, because his weren't for running, and they were old besides. Jim said they weren't fit for the training he'd need, so Blair had just sucked it up and accepted one more item from Jim that he couldn't afford himself. 

He couldn't even afford lunch. Jim had paid for that, too. At least he hadn't had to beg bus fare. At least not yet, but that was just about all he had to his name. He certainly didn't have the money to keep the Volvo running any longer. He didn't know why he was still hanging onto it.

He pulled the jacket collar a little tighter and sighed in relief when the bus appeared at the next corner. Just a little longer and he'd be out of the wind and rain. It wouldn't be soon enough as far as he was concerned.

He boarded the bus and paid his fare. Because of the rain the bus was crowded. It was standing room only and the only places left to stand were near the door. Everyone around him looked miserably wet and bedraggled. 

Blair glanced quickly around to see if anyone he knew was on the bus. He didn't people-watch like he used to, not since the press conference. Going to Major Crimes, even to say hello to his friends, had gotten uncomfortable. He tried to rise above the looks and whispers, but he'd be blind not to see the smirks on the other cops faces. Even though some were still friendly, others adopted a neutral expression when they saw Blair. He wished that Jim didn't return some of those with the 'Ellison Death Glare'. 

There had been a few times when someone in public had caught his eye, and maybe they hadn't meant anything by their scrutiny, but he'd felt uncomfortable then, too. He didn't think he needed to worry about it today because his hair was sopping wet and no one was going to recognize him like this. He just huddled into his crowded space and tried not to shiver. 

By the time the driver had stopped at the next corner his thoughts had slowly drifted to last minute plans for the academy. Even so, it would have been hard to miss the argument at the front of the bus. Someone standing beside the driver was gesturing widely and explaining rather desperately that he needed to get to Cascade General. That it was very important. That someone was injured. 

That was the point that Blair really began to listen more carefully.

“Please. You have to help me.”

The bus driver was having nothing to do with this guy's problem, “Listen. You pay your fare just like everyone else. Then you get to ride. Not the other way 'round.”

The man desperately patted his pockets. He pulled out a stack of credit cards but no cash or tokens. “I – I don't have any change, or bills. I left the last for a tip at lunch.”

The driver looked disgusted, “Look buddy, you're holding us up. These people have already paid, and they have places to go. So just get off, so we can be on our way.”

“No, no. You don't understand. My daughter was injured in an accident. She's only six. I just got a call on my cell. I have to get to her. She's really badly hurt.”

Blair thought the driver would surely let him on. The man had on casual clothes, and from the look of them they were top of the line. He didn't look like someone down on his luck … hmm. Can anyone say stereotype? But it was more the tone of voice, the obvious panic, that convinced Blair. Unfortunately, it may not have sounded like a scam to him but evidently it did to the bus driver.

“I said get off. I can't take anybody that doesn't pay. That's the rule. I'm done arguing. You're making me late for my run. Get off – now – or I'm calling the cops. All I have to do is pick up my radio and call it in then you won't be going anywhere but the station house.”

The man looked around at the riders closest to him, looking for allies perhaps. They'd all been listening to the little drama they were captive witnesses to and like Blair, they'd been eavesdropping as the voices had risen, but everyone just turned away. Blair really shouldn't have been surprised. He'd seen too much in the last four years. It was too easy for some people to think it was none of their business. It was too much trouble to get involved, and who wanted to look foolish enough to fall for a scam. 

Blair checked his pockets again. He knew he didn't have enough to pay the man's fare, but he thought he might have a solution.

“Driver?”

“Look, don't worry. We'll be moving in just a minute.”

“No, uh, look. I don't have enough for his fare …”

The bus driver looked about to interrupt so Blair hurried on.

“Look, I've paid my fare to Prospect St. If I get off now and give you the change I have, that would pay for his fare to Cascade General.”

The bus driver started to shake his head but Blair continued before he could say no, “See. I'll get off now,” and Blair quickly hopped down the steps, turning on the bottom one to hand the man his money, “and he has enough to pay his fare. Agreed?”

The man looked at Blair in gratitude and then at the bus driver with entreaty. The driver glared at Blair half-heartedly as he accepted what was offered. Blair thought he might have been relieved, that maybe he'd wanted to give in but with witnesses all around, he didn't dare. “Okay. Have it your way. Off. Now.”

Blair grinned and jumped down into an ankle-deep puddle, splashing water up to his knees, but he didn't care. He just nodded to the man he'd helped before the door shut in Blair's face.

Blair shivered all the way home, but it had been a long time since he'd felt so warm inside.

That night Jim had asked him about the sneakers that were still soaking wet on the radiator, but Blair made little mention of the incident, only carrying on about water up to his knees which Jim would know was an exaggeration, but he'd also know it was nothing serious and wouldn't push it. 

…

The next days news carried a story about an outcry from citizens against the bus driver's unfeeling response to Mr. Whitcomb's desperate plea. There were even people protesting outside city hall. 

Blair saw the story at the same time as Jim. Blair just sank slightly further into the couch cushions, and breathed a sigh of relief when Jim made no mention of the story at all.

Blair thought the story would die down, but the 'prominent citizen' whom the bus driver refused to allow to ride the bus fare-free, was also a 'prominent corporate lawyer'. The protests escalated and he could only watch in distress when there was a call for an investigation. He really was beside himself when the bus driver was suspended, with pay, for the duration of the investigation with the possibility of further penalties accruing to him.

Blair knew the driver was only doing his job, and he probably had people scamming him for rides every day. It wasn't entirely his fault. There 'were' rules that he had to follow or lose his job. He wondered how severe the outcry would have been if he'd allowed Mr. Whitcomb to ride for free.

Still, Blair tried to put it out of his mind because he had just started at the academy and the physical training, self-defense, and weapons training were suddenly demanding most of his spare time and all of his energy. It was almost a relief to be so busy that he didn't have time to worry about the incident on the bus. 

Blair knew his … and Jim's … future could rest on where he placed at graduation. He felt that he had to be in the very top of his class to earn his place in such a coveted division even though every one of their friends insisted he'd already earned his promised position as a detective in Major Crimes . 

...

It was a week later, and Blair and Jim were getting ready for the academy and work respectively. Jim was going to give Blair a ride since he was avoiding the buses for now. Blair especially didn't want to draw attention to himself while in his cadet uniform. Besides, he really 'didn't' have bus fare now.

They'd sat down for breakfast and Jim was listening to a local morning news program when something gained his startled attention. He looked at Blair and said, “Chief, do you know something about this?”

Blair looked confused until he finally 'tuned' in to the anchor's story. It was a continuation of the investigation into the 'city services scandal' as it had become labeled. The reporter said, “Since the Good Samaritan has been identified, Lawrence Whitcomb, of the law offices of Whitcomb, Barrier, and Jones, wishes to send a belated thank you to the young man who helped him reach his injured daughter that day. Curiously, Mr. Blair Sandburg was embroiled in his own academic scandal several months ago.” At this point, a short, and-thankfully-silent excerpt from his press conference was played in the background as the reporter continued. “I'm sure you'll be pleased to learn that little Melissa Whitcomb is recovering and should be released from the hospital soon.”

Jim turned to Blair and sighed disgustedly. “And when were you going to let me in on this little escapade of yours, Chief?”

Blair wilted visibly and set his fork on the table, all appetite lost. “Well, I figured no one would recognize me. I was soaked to the skin, and my hair was … well you know what it's like when I get caught in the rain. I figured … two months … maybe no one would remember, or put a name to my face. 'I' didn't know anyone on the bus. What do you think is going to happen now?”

Jim laid his napkin down by his plate and picked up his breakfast, obviously joining Blair in his loss of appetite. “I don't know. But I'm sure we'll find out soon.”

…

They had gathered their coats and headed down to the truck when they were approached by a nondescript man in a plain brown suit. He approached and said, “Mr. Blair Sandburg?”

Blair and Jim exchanged a look before Blair reluctantly answered, “Yeah, that would be me.”

He actually smiled as he said, “You are served.” He handed a startled Blair a slim packet of papers.

Blair and Jim exchanged another look, “Well, Jim. You called that one right.”

The brown-suit-man added, “You're requested to appear before the investigative committee at 10 o'clock. They realize it's short notice. If it causes undue hardship you're to call the Mayor's office by 8 o'clock.”

Blair sighed, “No. That will be fine. At least it'll be over quickly.”

Jim said, “I'll call Simon. There's no sense in taking you out to the Academy for a couple hours. And I want to call a lawyer.”

Blair nodded in defeated agreement.

...

The lawyer's only advice was to go, testify, and get it done as quickly and unobtrusively as possible. Make no waves. And STAY AWAY FROM REPORTERS, and if you can't stay away, then remember the best answer was always, 'No Comment'.

Jim hung up and muttered a few choice words. 

Blair started to take off his uniform, but Jim stopped him. 

“Blair, I know what the lawyer said. Be unobtrusive. But I don't think you should hide who you 'really' are. The release of your dissertation was a mistake. You're a good person that was caught up in a lousy situation not of your own choosing. And, for that matter, your Mom is a good person, too. I don't want you to think I'll hold a grudge against Naomi … at least not forever. I want people to know what kind of man you really are. The only mistake you made was trusting your mother and you took full responsibility for that whole mess. I hope I don't have to tell you that I'd fix it if I could. Maybe I should just admit the truth. This is the last thing I ever wanted to happen. Chief, you deserved the brass ring: the money, a Nobel Prize, the works. Instead, you're working your butt off for a job you never wanted and the hazard pay isn't that great.”

“Well, hey. But I can retire in twenty years,” Blair added softly in half-joking rebuttal.

At Jim's clenched-jaw grief, Blair added, “Look, Jim. We've discussed this. The 'only' good thing that could come out of your admitting the sentinel stuff is that I'd get some of my reputation back. But in academic circles, I'd still be known as the researcher that revealed my subject, and left him vulnerable. It would ruin any advantages you have on the job, and catching the bad guys is too important. Maybe you should just stay home, and lend me the truck. You don't need to be hounded by reporters.”

Jim smiled wanly, “Not the truck, Sandburg. Sweetheart needs to last a few more years before I can afford more insurance.” Blair grinned. “Chief, we're partners. I won't be far if you need me.”

Blair's grin turned into a smile as he grabbed his cap and joined Jim for the ride downtown.

...

Reporters crowded around them as soon as they were within view of the courthouse doors. Blair quickly glanced at Jim and gave him a surreptitious shooing motion. Jim sighed, shrugged his shoulders, but stepped less-than-valiantly around him and jogged up the stairs and out of view of the camera. A feeling of resignation swept over Blair, and he unconsciously squared his shoulders.

The questions that peppered the air had little to do with the current investigation, and he wondered if this was how it was going to be for the foreseeable future. He clenched his jaw and pushed carefully through the crowd, even forgoing the 'no comments' that the lawyer had suggested. He just practiced his version of the 'neutral' face that Jim could draw on at need.

When he reached the room set aside for this panel of investigators, Jim was waiting for him. He was glad. He needed a friendly face right now, and he was glad that Jim had escaped the reporters this time. When Jim glanced at his cadet uniform cap, he hastily removed it and smoothed down his hair, checking his ponytail, too. He rarely wore hats, unless it was really cold. 

Their lawyer entered hurriedly from a side corridor and said that he would sit with Jim, at least until it became obvious that the investigation was going to get nasty. He advised that they wait and see if the panel's purpose was to deal with the problem at hand, or spread the scandal back onto Mr. Sandburg and take the heat off the city.

The proceedings began at ten, on the dot. The Mayor was at least punctual. He requested Mr. Sandburg to approach and take an oath, and to sit for questioning. 

As Blair moved into the 'hotseat' he felt oddly calm. He suddenly realized that he'd been through his own personal hell already, and if they intended to bring it up again, that wasn't anything he could prevent. So he sat there with a serene demeanor. The media had already done their worst, so let them bring it on. 

After opening the proceedings the Mayor didn't waste any time. “Mr. Sandburg, the investigation into the circumstances regarding the city bus driver has just revealed a very interesting bit of information. It seems that the driver, Albert Johnson, was finally able to identify you as the young man who gave up his seat and fare to Mr. Whitcomb. Is that true?”

Blair took a steadying breath and said, “Yes, that's true.” 

The Mayor's indignant look did nothing to move Blair. “Why didn't you come forward when the incident was reported? Were you aware there was an ongoing investigation?”

“I didn't think my identity would be of any help to the investigation. From press reports it has been focused on current city procedures, and if Mr. Johnson followed them correctly.”

“Well, that's true. But didn't you think that your testimony on the procedure that he followed would be relevant?”

“I'm sorry for not coming forward. I know that the testimony I read in the papers was accurate. Mr. Johnson followed the rules he was instructed to follow. I would like to add that it's not his fault that there's no leeway for emergencies of this sort.”

There was a burst of murmurs from the audience, followed by clicks and flashes as news people snapped pictures. The Mayor looked like he'd just eaten sour grapes. 

“But you knew that you … your identity … was unknown, and you were being sought. You must know we wanted to question you.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because you were a pivotal part in this scandal ...”

“No, I wasn't.”

“Well, I beg to differ, sir.”

“Mayor Devons, if anyone is pivotal in this scandal ...” and Blair glanced around the room at this point, noting that the bus driver held his gaze firmly, while others wore angry or curious expressions. “... if anyONE is pivotal, it is EVERYone.”

The muttering stopped, and the angered listeners morphed into more curious than anything else.

Blair continued in the silence, “Everyone was looking for a Good Samaritan. That's fine. But a good deed doesn't need to be acknowledged, Mayor Devons. It can be done for it's own sake. I didn't do it for the acknowledgment. I did it because it was the right thing to do.”

“Well, that's a very nice sentiment, Mr. Sandburg, but …”

“If you would let me finish Mr. Mayor. I won't take long I promise. You see, during all the political posturing and media coverage, I was waiting for something and I never heard it. Not from you and the panel, not from the media, not even from people interviewed from the bus, or just opinions of people on the street. And I must admit that I'm a little dismayed.” Blair took a breath and stopped to consider that he could make more trouble for himself and for Jim, but he had to say it. “You see, there is something I've been wondering about. I was surprised that there was so much anger about Mr. Johnson's actions. He wasn't allowed any discretion in the procedures. There were 'rules' and 'rules had to be followed'. I understand that, I do, but we're human beings, and although some things are black or white, some things might be gray. The public had a lot to say about the inflexibity of the rules. They also praised me.”

The Mayor said, “Mr. Sandburg, you promised to be brief.”

“Yes, Mr. Mayor. What I mean to say is that I was shoulder-to-shoulder with at least a dozen other passengers, all within earshot of Mr. Whitcomb and the driver. I truly don't want to disparage them, as I've worked with the public for many years, and their reactions were typical. I saw Mr. Whitcomb look to us all for help, and I saw them all turn away. I know they heard the conversation but when Mr. Whitcomb looked to the passengers for help … they all - turned away.”

Blair sighed deeply and continued, “Sometimes it's hard for me to understand. It would have cost so little, and meant so much ... at least to Mr. Whitcomb and his daughter. For just a few dollars.”

The city attorney was on the panel. She leaned forward and said, “You could have turned away but you didn't. You not only gave him the fare, but by doing so, you ended up on the street, in some pretty nasty weather, and rather far from your home. Why 'did' you do it, Mr. Sandburg?”

“It wasn't so much ... but it was the decent thing to do, Ms. Graham. Now, if I've answered your questions, I hope you'll excuse me. I should to be on my way.” 

Ms. Graham replied, “From your cadet's uniform, I see that you're attending the Police Academy.”

Blair stiffened ever-so-slightly, wondering if the questions would now turn to his previous press conference, “Yes.”

She leaned back, seeming very satisfied with something, “I wish you well, Mr. Sandburg. We need more young men in blue like you in this community.” Ms. Graham clearly sensed that Blair didn't know what to say, or if he should say anything. She turned to the panel and said, “I believe we have all we need from our Good Samaritan. I think we have things to discuss in private session. Mayor Devons, I believe we should recess. If more testimony is required from anyone, we can reconvene at a later date.”

The Mayor took his cue from Ms. Graham, and adjourned.

...

That was where the news clip ended later that night, when Blair and Jim got to watch the incident on the news. Not a word of it was cut.

“That didn't seem too bad,” said Jim.

“I'm glad we came right home.”

“I'm glad the reporters seemed more civil. I wonder who knocked some manners into them.”

“Hmm. Yeah. I wonder.”

“Hey, not me! No comment! Remember?”

Blair let his disbelief show. But soon he turned contemplative as he allowed his thoughts to be drawn back to the news. It wasn't until after they'd watched a Jags game that he broached another subject that was worrying him. “Jim, do you think anyone was really listening?”

Jim sighed but didn't look confused by his question. He said, “You made a good point, and it's surprising that no one in the media had made any mention of it. You certainly gave them something to think about, Chief.”

“I wish I could believe that it could make a difference to someone.”

Jim slung an arm over his shoulder and said, “Well, you helped the Whitcombs. And as the saying goes … if you help even one person ...”

“... then it was worth it.”

Jim squeezed his shoulder and said, “Just remember that it's true.”

“Thanks, Jim.”

...

Epilogue

...

Events turned back to what passed for normal, for a sentinel and guide. Jim started to drag Blair in to the precinct more often. At first, Blair remained subdued until he noticed the change in Jim, and Simon and the rest of the crew, too. Jim laughed more easily. He didn't clench his jaw once, during that whole first visit. When Blair greeted other officers and uniforms the smirks were gone. The whispered asides that he thought Jim would take offense to … well he didn't … and sometimes he even stifled a laugh. Jim? 

Getting in the truck to go home, Blair had to say it, “Okay, Jim. What is going on with you?”

Jim got in and shut the door. He turned partway to Blair, placing his arm on the back of the seat. He grinned widely, whapped the back of his head gently, and said, “They heard, Chief. They heard.”

…

Wendy Hawthorne asked to cover the Police Academy Graduation. No one else was eager to cover it. It was just one more graduation story, important to the people and the families involved, but the coverage was guaranteed at least a small spot on the evening news and she wanted to make sure it was seen to best advantage. She made sure that the camera showed the Mayor and Mr. Whitcomb behind Blair Sandburg as he knelt down to little Melissa Whitcomb's height.

Melissa was there to hand out the year's Good Samaritan award to one of Cascade's newest detectives. Wendy made sure the cameraman was ready for that. Now who could resist a handsome man in uniform and a tiny, curly-haired girl that hugged him.

That last shot just might get 'her' an award. 

...

End


End file.
